


Somebody to Love

by queenofthefuckinggoblins7



Series: Somebody to Love [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hogwarts First Year, Hogwarts Second Year, Hogwarts Third Year, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28934703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofthefuckinggoblins7/pseuds/queenofthefuckinggoblins7
Summary: In a fit of homophobic rage, the Dursley's destroy Harry's soulmark when he's just a baby. Now he faces a future of waiting, and loneliness.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini
Series: Somebody to Love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122170
Comments: 8
Kudos: 362
Collections: Works worth reading again and again





	Somebody to Love

**Author's Note:**

> In this universe Soulmarks appear on the 1st birthday.  
> Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine.  
> Warning: there are a couple homophobic slurs.  
> Hope you enjoy it!

For as long as he could remember, Harry has had a burn scar on his wrist where his soulmate’s name should be. Before he learned to hide it, he was met with pity from all who saw it. The Dursley’s, of course, told everyone it was the result of a terrible accident. But Harry knew the truth.

You see, despite same-sex soulmates having existed since the beginning, the Dursley’s were homophobic in the extreme. To their narrow minds it was simply unnatural. Freakish. And so, when little Harry was discovered to have a male name on his wrist at the tender age of 15 months, Vernon and Petunia Dursley took matters into their own hands. They burned it off. No nephew of theirs was going to be a pouf.

By the time Harry was eight, he had learned to keep it hidden at all times. A fortunate find in the school’s lost and found provided him with a wrist band thick enough to hide any trace of the scar. Sometimes, when he was locked in his cupboard for too long, or nights that he could not sleep, Harry would remove the band and stare at the mottled tissue. He imagined to himself that he could almost see words in the black and red twisted mess. That if he only looked long enough, hard enough, his soulmate’s name would be revealed to him. He wished, with every fiber of his tiny being, to not be alone.

\----

Walking down Diagon Alley with Hagrid was surreal. So much had happed in such a short time that Harry was having trouble processing it all. He had magic, his parents had loved him, had died for him, he was _famous._ That was probably the most difficult for Harry to accept.

Hagrid had praised his hiding of his soulmark. _Don’ want people taking advantage of yeh now, do yeh._ Harry hadn’t had the heart to tell Hagrid the truth.

\---

It takes Harry two weeks to screw up the courage to go to the Hospital Wing. He tried not to get his hopes up, but if anything could fix his damaged soulmark, surely it would be magic? He crept through the doors early on a Saturday morning. Hopefully all the other students will be too preoccupied with sleeping in and it’ll be empty. Sure enough, Harry doesn’t see anyone inside, though that includes Madam Pomfrey. He debates coming back later, and just as he turns to leave a side door opens and out comes Madam Pomfrey herself.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Potter?” She aims a raised brow at him.

Harry takes a deep breath, “Visits are confidential right? You won’t tell anyone why I’m here?”

A second eyebrow joins the first. “Barring any danger to yourself or others, that is correct.”

“Could we do this in private, please?”

“Certainly, to my office then.” Madam Pomfrey turned sharply and led the way over to the door she had first come out of. “Now, what’s this all about then?”

Another deep breath and Harry reaches for the band on his left wrist. He hears Madam Pomfrey inhale sharply as she sees his mangled soulmark, and looks up at her. “I was wondering if maybe you could fix my mark,” Harry murmured. He tensed a bit when she drew her wand, watching intently as she cast a few charms.

After a few long moments she finally looked up, “I am terribly sorry Mr. Potter, but the damage is too extensive for me to heal.”

Harry shut his eyes and willed himself not to cry. With the Dursley’s crying was a weakness best not showed, but Harry found himself unable to stop his tears, silent sobs shaking his body. His last hope dashed. A light touch on his hand made his eyes snap open, making contact with Madam Pomfrey’s. In her hands she held a cup of tea and a small vial.

“A Calming Draught, dear, and a nice cup of tea. Drink up, now.” She said firmly, pushing the vial into his hand.

Once he had downed the potion the vial was replaced with the tea cup. Harry sat quietly, soaking up the warmth of the cup, while making no move to drink. Madam Pomfrey allows him several long moments to collect himself, before he thanks her and leaves, wrist band firmly in place once more.

\---

_You’re a Parselmouth, why didn’t you say anything?_

Ron’s voice echoes in Harry’s ears. He’s huddled around his knees on the floor of a disused corridor, avoiding the rest of the school after the disaster that was the Dueling Club. How was Harry to know that talking to snakes was so bad? He rested his forehead on his knees and focused on keeping his breathing steady. So lost in his head, he didn’t hear the quiet footsteps coming closer to him, and startled badly when he felt someone sit next to him. Head turning sharply, he stared at the black boy in green robes. He looked familiar, it took Harry a moment to place him as one of his yearmates, Zabini he was pretty sure his name was. Harry was stiff, waiting for sharp words or perhaps a curse or two. Zabini merely stared back at him in return.

“What do you want?” Harry asked tiredly. He wanted this over so that he could be left alone in peace.

“I wanted to see if you were alright. What with most of the school lacking in brain cells and thinking you’re the Heir and all. It’s incredible how gullible they all can be.” Zabini looked forward to the opposite wall, but inched closer, brushing his shoulder against Harry’s.

Harry gaped a little, “You believe me, then?”

“Of course I do,” Zabini snorted. “Anyone who’s paid any attention to you ought to know it’s ludicrous.”

Harry felt a warmth suffuse him. “Thank you, Zabini,” he said quietly.

“Call me Blaise,” came the boy’s reply.

“Harry, then,” he returned.

They met up occasionally after that first encounter in the corridor. Always just the two of them, neither mentioning the get togethers to their other friends. It was so much simpler being alone. They picked one of the unused classrooms dotting the corridor they met in as their space. Blaise bringing cushions from somewhere to give them nicer places to sit. Sometimes they sat in silence, simply enjoying the other’s company. Other times they talked, mostly about school, slowly branching into more personal topics. Blaise told him about living in Italy, while Harry talked about what muggle primary school was like. Both avoided talking about their families with any kind of depth, and neither of them had ever mentioned their soulmarks. Harry was quickly coming to regard Blaise just as much a friend as Ron and Hermione.

Things kept on that way for a few months, until there had been so many attacks that they had to stop. Harry was far too preoccupied with Hermione being petrified, anyway. Then Ginny was taken into the Chamber, Harry and Ron swift to follow. Most of that night is a blur for Harry. Lockhart exposing himself for a fraud, a cave-in, a fight with an honest to god _basilisk._ When the opportunity to free Dobby comes up, Harry doesn’t hesitate to take it. He knows all too well about being mistreated by people who were meant to care for you. He makes it through the impromptu feast, mustering up some genuine happiness when Hermione and Hagrid are returned to them. He’s relieved when it’s over, he feels like he could sleep for a week.

A couple days after, Harry’s on his way to meet up with Blaise in their classroom. He barely makes it through the door before Blaise tugs at him, patting him down as if he’s making sure Harry is in one piece. Once Blaise is satisfied, they sit shoulder to shoulder and Harry recounts his night in the Chamber of Secrets. Blaise holds his hand and squeezes tightly when Harry gets to the part about fighting a basilisk.

After Harry finishes his tale, Blaise mutters in Italian for a bit before pulling Harry into a hug and demanding, “Don’t ever do that again.”

Harry laughs quietly and says, “No promises.”

They sat quietly for a few moments, knowing this was likely the last time they’d be able to see each other before school let out for the summer.

Blaise cleared his throat a little, “I got you something.”

“Really?” Harry perked up.

“I know you said you probably wouldn’t be able to owl, and it’s a long journey for owls anyway, so I thought these might help.” Blaise pulled out a pair of small mirrors, “They’re linked, if you say my name into yours we can talk through them.”

Harry was speechless, this was one of the most thoughtful things anyone had ever given him.

He yanked Blaise into a hug and whispered “thank you so much.”

\---

Harry’s summer had been going ok. He was back with the Dursley’s and Hedwig was locked in her cage again, but the rare times he got to speak with Blaise made everything so much better than it otherwise would have been. Harry was content with keeping his head down and waiting to go back to Hogwarts. Until, that it, Aunt Marge showed up. He will never regret blowing her up, just for the looks on everyone’s faces.

Now at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry’s summer was looking to be one of the best he’d ever had. The next morning, Harry couldn’t wait to talk to Blaise. He didn’t have to skulk around with his mirror anymore, didn’t have to make sure he was being quiet. Blaise laughed over Aunt Marge’s fate, and agreed that the Minister had acted strangely. They made plans to meet up and shop for school supplies together, and the rest of the summer flew by.

Back at Hogwarts, Harry was disgruntled at missing the Sorting ceremony yet again. Bloody Dementors. Bloody Sirius Black.

As September rolled by, Harry fell back into his routines; schoolwork, quidditch, and spending time with Blaise in their classroom. Of course, just as Harry was feeling settled Sirius Black stormed the castle on Halloween. Between that and the miserable quidditch match in which Harry was once again attacked by Dementors and his broom destroyed, Harry was starting to feel demoralized. In his determination to not feel so helpless he sought out Professor Lupin and begged him to teach him the Patronus Charm.

The Patronus Charm was bloody difficult, too. At times, Harry felt he just didn’t have any memories happy enough to power it. It was during one such session that Professor Lupin confessed to being friends with Harry’s father. Excitement surged up in him and he leaned forward eagerly.

“If you knew my dad you must have seen me as a baby, yeah?”

“I did, yes.” Lupin replied.

“So you saw my soulmark, right? You know who it is?” Harry was practically manic at this point. This was it, this had to be it.

Lupin gazed at him in confusion, eyes darting to Harry’s wrist band, and said, “I don’t, actually. Your family was already in hiding when it came in on your first birthday, and I was away at the time and couldn’t visit. Your parents never put it in a letter just in case it was intercepted.”

Harry stilled, then reached for the nearest object, which happened to be his tea cup, and threw it across the room with a wordless cry of rage and despair. He collapsed to his knees, struggling to breathe properly. Harry felt Lupin place a hand on his back, could hear Lupin talking but could not make out any words. Numbness started to creep over him. He was done hoping. He was done trying. It hurt too much.

Months passed, and Harry threw himself into acting as if nothing was wrong. Well, nothing more than what had already been wrong. It worked to a degree as Ron and Hermione were too busy bickering to pay closer attention than the surface of his words. Blaise, however, was not so easily fooled. He didn’t make Harry talk about it, respecting Harry’s wishes while letting him know that he was there should Harry change his mind.

It wasn’t until late spring that Harry’s life was again thrown into upheaval. Finding out that Sirius was innocent was strange; going back in time was even stranger. But Harry and Hermione were successful in saving Buckbeak, and Harry with casting a corporeal Patronus to drive away the Dementors. They flew up to the tower to complete their last task of saving Sirius. Harry was devastated to see him go, here was someone who loved him, unable to stay with him. Typical.

“I’m sorry I won’t be able to keep my promise of living together, but I’ll always be a letter away should you need me.” Sirius gave Harry a crushing hug. “Tell the Zabini boy that I don’t care that you two are soulmates, if he hurts you I’ll rip him to shreds.”

“ _What?”_ Harry nearly barked out.

“Er-“

“Blaise. Blaise Zabini is my soulmate.”

“’Course he is. You’re starting to worry me here, pup.”

Harry laughed hysterically. Just when he had given up ever finding them, and now it turns out he’s found him after all. He stops abruptly as he realizes that Blaise had always known, but had said nothing. No. He wasn’t going to jump to conclusions for once in his life. After he was done here he was just going to have to hunt Blaise down and make him explain.

Sirius and Hermione had been watching him, both clearly concerned for his mental state. Harry shoved his feelings down and bade Sirius goodbye, he and Hermione barely making it back to the Hospital Wing in time to be shut in again. Hermione was clearly dying to ask about Blaise, but Harry shook his head. He took the dreamless sleep left on his bedside table; he wanted a clear head for his confrontation tomorrow.

Harry woke early, and was thankful that Hermione and Ron were still asleep. He slipped out of the Hospital Wing and bolted up to Gryffindor tower to grab his mirror. He called Blaise’s name, and it was clear that he had woken the other boy up. Agreeing to meet in their classroom in twenty minutes so they could dress and grab a quick breakfast, Harry sped through it all, racing towards their classroom. He paced back and forth, unable to stand still until Blaise arrived. Then he stood frozen, staring at this boy who had become such a close friend to him.

“What’s the matter, Harry? You said this was really important,” Blaise prodded.

“Why didn't you say anything? About us being soulmates.” Harry got right to the point. He had to know if Blaise really wanted anything to do with him or had just been cruel.

Blaise startled, “Because you didn’t. I knew it was likely that you wouldn’t know who I was, but I had expected you to seek me out after the Sorting in our first year. Instead, you never even looked my way. I was pretty crushed at first, I won’t lie. I thought perhaps you didn’t want me because I was a Slytherin. I thought I’d try and move on but I couldn’t. I found myself seeking you out in the corridors, at breakfast, and in all the classes we shared. Then in second year, I decided that I could at least see if you wanted to be friends. I could be content with that. I have been, and even though we circled some more serious topics you still never brought it up. I thought you might be ashamed to have me as a soulmate.”

Harry was stunned. The fact that Blaise had been so upset by Harry’s unknowing dismissal and sought him out anyway was more precious to Harry than anything else. He didn’t even notice the tears streaming down his face until Blaise’s hands were framing it, stroking his thumbs across Harry’s cheeks to dispel the tears. Harry closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, no one had ever made him feel so precious before.

Opening his eyes, Harry stepped back a bit from Blaise. He held up his wrist and took off the band, revealing the scar beneath. Blaise inhaled sharply and made a pained noise.

“I never knew who my soulmate was. My relatives said I had the scar when I was left with them as a baby, but I overheard them talking about me once when I was six or so. They didn’t want a faggot for a nephew and burned it off. After finding out I was a wizard and famous, I’d figured I’d never meet my soulmate. Never be able to find them.” Harry said softly. He had to make sure that Blaise knew he had always been wanted.

Blaise shook with his fury and wrapped Harry in his arms. “You’re not going back there. I’ll kidnap you if I have to. You’re coming to Italy with me and that’s final.”

Harry snuggled deeper in to Blaise’s arms, clutching at him as if he were drowning. Smiling into his shoulder Harry replied, “I’d like that.”

There were so many things that still needed to be addressed, logistics that needed arranging, but Harry allowed himself this moment. This moment to hold and be held. To treasure and be treasured in return. They would make arrangements later, for now Harry was happy in his soulmate’s arms.


End file.
